


He Forgets

by avxry



Series: the office party incident [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Drinking, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Office Party, alex is Drunk and he falls off a table, alex is drunk so, it's mostly alex and tjeff, mildy dubcon, the others are brief, there's never enough of those, this is the raunchiest thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:57:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8306030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avxry/pseuds/avxry
Summary: Thomas Jefferson forgets.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this can be read as a stand-alone or with the rest of the series

Thomas didn't want to come to this office party anyway. It's much too loud, and he's just been trailing behind James the whole night. James, on the other hand, seems to actually be enjoying himself.

_That makes one of us._

Thomas is sipping water out of a Styrofoam cup. He's never been much of a drinker. It makes him too sloppy and emotional, and these people are the last people he wants to get sloppy and emotional around.

This isn't a problem for anyone else. They've been downing bottle after bottle of beer, or, in Angelica Schuyler's case, glasses of wine, all night.

So far, everything has been pretty harmless. Aaron Burr is nursing a beer at a little round table, texting and laughing every few minutes. Washington has restrained himself to only two beers, still mostly sober, laughing at the antics of Marquis de Lafayette, John Laurens, and Hercules Mulligan, the fun drunks.

And then there's Alexander Hamilton: not a fun drunk. Alexander Hamilton is a loud drunk. Actually, he's not that much different drunk. He slurs his words a little more and he says some things that he probably wouldn't if he were sober, but other than that, he's still just loud and annoying.

"Everybody, everybody!" Hamilton shouts, but the music is a little too loud and everyone's having a little too much fun – except for Jefferson, who rolls his eyes. "Everybody – listen! Hey! Look!"

Nobody is paying any attention to Hamilton. This, of course, is a problem. So Hamilton does what any normal Hamilton would do: he stands on a table.

Jefferson laughs to himself, water nearly spurting out of his nose as Hamilton stumbles on his way up, completely missing his step on the chair and falling to the floor. He's not deterred. He stands back up and places a firm foot on the chair, then on the wobbly table.

Still, nobody has paid him any attention.

"Guys! Listen to me! I have something to say!" he shouts, but there's no response. Jefferson raises an amused eyebrow at him, taking a sip of his water. "This is important!"

Washington notices him but doesn't say anything. He's too preoccupied with Lafayette, who has an arm slung around him while simultaneously making googly eyes at Laurens.

"Guys, look –"

And before he can finish whatever he's trying to say, he stumbles again, eyes going wide as he slips and starts falling forward. Jefferson doesn't think before he reacts. He reaches out and catches Hamilton swiftly, spilling what was left of his water. Hamilton clings to him for dear life.

"Ugh, Hamilton, get up," Jefferson groans, dropping his empty cup and heaving Hamilton to his feet. Jefferson reaches over to grab some paper towels on the counter and drops them to the floor, drying it with his foot.

But Hamilton is still clasped onto his arm.

"Hamilton, let go of me."

Hamilton is paying no attention. He's just rambling on through his slurred words. "No one listens to me. They always listen to you. Hey, Jefferson – hey, hey, Jefferson – can you – can you get them to pay attention to me? Jefferson?"

Jefferson rolls his eyes but looks down at Hamilton. His doe eyes look up at him pitifully, and Jefferson sighs. "I think you're done for the night."

"Jefferson –" hiccup " – what are you doing?"

"I'm taking you home," Jefferson sighs, dragging the smaller man by the arm, out the door and into the elevator.

Hamilton is giggling to himself and clinging onto his side as he presses the button.

"You're pretty," Hamilton slurs with a tipsy grin, looking up at Jefferson's face. He reaches up and pokes his cheek lightly, then bursts into another fit of giggles.

Jefferson's face flushes as he rolls his eyes, willing the elevator to go faster.

Finally, the doors slide open and Jefferson breathes a sigh of relief; Hamilton is starting to feel him up a little too much. He drags him out, quite literally. Hamilton keeps mumbling things like "your face is really nice" and "damn, you're so hot" and Jefferson is getting more and more uncomfortable by the second.

By the time they're at his car, Hamilton has a hand working its way up his shirt and Jefferson is trying to squirm away. "Hamilton – Jesus, Hamilton, stop it – stop!"

Hamilton draws away as if stung, looking at Jefferson with hurt written on his face. "Oh." He looks pitiful, and Jefferson is beyond annoyed that he feels bad for him.

He shakes his head. "C'mon, Hamilton. Let's go."

But he doesn't move. Hamilton just keeps staring at him with this dazed look in his eyes. He mumbles something that Jefferson can't decipher, and before he can do anything else, Hamilton has him pinned against the car, his lips clumsily crashing onto his own.

He gasps in surprise and moves his hands to push Hamilton away, but instead of separating them, his hands make their own decision to clasp onto his shirt, and before he knows it, he's pulling him closer, gripping his hips and pushing back against him. Hamilton moans and Jefferson feels it in his chest and he lets out a throaty sound he didn't know he had in him when Hamilton shoves his tongue between his lips.

Hamilton's hands start roaming, fumbling around his hips and his belt, and Jefferson has to stop them before they get arrested for public indecency. Hamilton jerks back and looks at him in shock.

Hamilton's eyes go wide. "Shit. Shit. Jefferson –"

"Shut up," he growls, then grips Hamilton's shirt in the front, opens the car door, and slings him inside. He rounds the car, climbs into the driver's seat, and starts the car without a word. Hamilton is silent, his face burning with shame.

Jefferson drives angrily, speeding around corners and barely stopping at red lights. His hands grip the wheel so tightly his fingertips turn white. Hamilton doesn't dare look over at him.

He jerks the car to a stop outside his apartment building, turns it off with a snap, and rushes out of the car, slamming the door. Hamilton is unbuckling when Jefferson opens his door forcefully and drags him out, barely shutting it back.

His grip on Hamilton's arm is starting to hurt when Jefferson pulls him into the elevator and presses the button for his floor. He doesn't let go the entire ride, his pulse reaching his fingertips.

Hamilton has sobered slightly, trying to gather his wits enough to apologize, to say anything at all, when they reach Jefferson's door. He still hasn't let go of his arm.

"Jefferson – Jefferson, stop," Hamilton says, but it's a mumble, there's no confidence in his voice. Jefferson slings open the door and drags him inside, slamming it shut. Hamilton winces.

Jefferson is still dragging him when he growls again, "Stop talking."

Hamilton is afraid. Jefferson's face is frightening to say the least.

Hamilton's mind is swimming when he sees Jefferson has yanked him into his bedroom. He throws him down on the bed and climbs on top of him, attacking his mouth with fervor. Hamilton yelps in surprise, reaching up to push his shoulders back.

"What the hell?"

Jefferson fights him and bites on his jaw. "I said stop talking."

And Hamilton does. His heart is beating out of control as he grips onto Jefferson's shoulders and slots their mouths together, feeling a burning in his chest. Jefferson is shoving him down into the pillows, nipping at his ear, trailing his tongue down to suck right below his jaw. Hamilton lets out a moan and bucks up against him as Jefferson reaches for the buttons on his shirt, swiftly removing them all and stripping him down to his bare chest.

Hamilton does the same, throwing Jefferson's shirt across the room and reaching down to fumble with his belt, but his hands are shaking, so Jefferson takes over, whipping his belt out of the loops and flinging it to the floor.

Hamilton works on his own belt as he sucks on his shoulder, then makes his way back to his mouth, slipping his tongue between Jefferson's lips, making him release a moan that reaches down to Hamilton's toes. He shivers.

"Oh, God," Jefferson mumbles, his eyes rolling back into his head. His hands reach down to Hamilton's waist, whipping his belt away and throwing it at the wall. It hits with a crack and falls to the floor. Jefferson returns to his neck, unbuttoning his pants and dragging them down. Hamilton hisses and throws his head back at the contact with the cool air.

Jefferson fits their mouths together again, moaning throatily and bucking down uncontrollably.

They try not to think about what they're doing as they're doing it, just giving and taking, sliding beneath the cover of the blankets and the darkness.

Jefferson forgets everything. He forgets that this is wrong, that this is Hamilton, that this is crazy. He forgets every reason he shouldn't be doing this and he just does it.

He forgets about everything except Hamilton squirming below him, letting out ungodly sounds and eliciting some from Jefferson himself.

He forgets, and it's beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> this is trash and i'm sorry


End file.
